


Blue

by Arasei



Category: Gintama
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, I'm not kidding, Married Okikagu, Seriously tooth-rotting fluff, because let's face it, i'm trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-16 05:35:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17543681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arasei/pseuds/Arasei
Summary: She sighs, listening to the sound of familiar footsteps making their way through the house and to the laundry room. She counts them in her head, mouth moving silently at twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three—The footsteps come to a stop."We have an air-con," Sougo says from the doorway.Kagura means to say, 'this is better,' but what comes out instead is, "I'm pregnant."Her eyes are closed as she says this, but she opens them now to catch a glimpse of Sougo's expression. She wonders over how little surprise she feels upon seeing only mere thoughtfulness, his manner blank as he looks to the ceiling, hands tucked loosely into his pockets.Eventually, he says, "we'll need to upgrade our insurance."





	Blue

Kagura likes to lie across the floor of their laundry room.

It's the only room in the house floored with tile instead of timber or tatami mat, and in the too hot heat of summer (the unrelenting kind that stuffs itself in one's lungs like smoke), the smooth stone is blessedly cool against her skin. The perpetual scent of soap is an additional comfort — the laundry detergent box pushed underneath the sink, nearly always cracked open because it's a rare thing that they remember to close it properly, is an ever constant blanket of fragrance, and as pathetic as it sounds, it reminds her of Sougo when she has no Yorozuya work and he isn't home.

She clicks her tongue in irritation, adjusting herself better across the floor to once again hold up the pregnancy test in her hand to the ceiling. Two pink stripes, unchanging since Kagura saw it last, thirty-two seconds ago. She lets her arm drop back to her side and checks her phone, reading 5:47 p.m. Any other day, she would've been blowing up Sougo's cell and rolling her eyes at his apathetic responses, but just this once, she doesn't trust herself to accidentally let something slip. 

Plus, she kind of wants to see the look on his stupid face when she tells him. 

He's late, though.

Several minutes pass by, time in which Kagura spends periodically checking her phone and the pregnancy test, when suddenly, she hears the tell-tale swish of the front door sliding open and shut. She sighs, listening to the sound of familiar footsteps making their way through the house and to the laundry room. She counts them in her head, mouth moving silently at twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three—

The footsteps come to a stop.

"We have an air-con," Sougo says from the doorway.

Kagura means to say, 'this is better,' but what comes out instead is, "I'm pregnant."

Her eyes are closed as she says this, but she opens them now to catch a glimpse of Sougo's expression. She wonders over how little surprise she feels upon seeing only mere thoughtfulness, his manner blank as he looks to the ceiling, hands tucked into his pockets. 

Eventually, he says, "we'll need to upgrade our insurance." 

She snorts, moving to let him join her on the floor. "That is all you have to say?" she asks, elbowing him in the side as he settles down beside her. "I just said we are going to have a baby, yes."

"With your genes?" Sougo says, and she can practically hear the grin in his voice. "It won't be a baby. It'll be a monster."

Kagura kicks him in the shin.

" _Fuck_ -ing hell, woman—"

"You can't use that language around the baby, yes. I'll divorce you."

"Not if I divorce you first," Sougo scowls, sitting up to nurse his injured leg. "This is domestic violence, you batshit crazy—"

Kagura yanks him back down by the collar of his jacket, ignoring his noise of protest. She buries her face into the neck of his cravat and breathes him in, relaxing at the warm and clean scent of detergent. Sougo stills, insults forgotten, and she says, "it smells better on your clothes than from the box."

She hears his heartbeat pace behind the cage of his ribs and he sighs, maneuvering to wrap an arm around her waist. "This is really uncomfortable," he tells her, and she smiles at the rumble of his voice beneath her ear. "Shut up, yes," she says.

They're quiet for a long time, listening to the faint hum of the washing machine behind their heads. Sougo is first to break the silence. "You're serious?" he asks, looking up at the ceiling in very much the same thoughtful way he had been doing before the awful insurance joke.

Kagura shows him the pregnancy test. Sougo exhales, the sound quiet but drawn out. "Huh," he says finally. And then, "Oops."

She pinches him until he apologizes.

"You brute," Sougo mutters, rubbing his bruised arm. He takes the test into his other hand, benignly turning it over in his palm. "What are we going to name her?" 

"Or him," Kagura amends.

"I think it's a her."

"It's a him."

"Her or him."

Kagura thinks about it. "Sadaharu number twenty—"

_"No."_

Kagura pouts, and makes no more suggestions. After a while, however, she says, "I wonder if he will have your eyebrows."

"She."

" _He._ I have a really good feeling, yes."

She can almost feel Sougo rolling his eyes, but he says nothing to dispute her. Instead, he says, "they'll probably have your weird chubby cheeks."

Kagura sits up in offence, her expression heated. "My cheeks are _not_ chubby—"

She doesn't get very far as Sougo tugs her back by the hand before she can really build up a proper rant. "Okay, chubby."

She kicks him again, but he blocks her with his uninjured leg and smoothly pulls her back into his arms. To distract her from struggling, he says, "they'll have your nose too, maybe."

Kagura makes a disgruntled noise. "My really ugly, deformed nose?"

Sougo thinks about it. "No," he says, "your nose is okay."

She scoffs. "How romantic, yes," she replies dryly, but she's not mad. With her cheek pressed to his chest once again, she can feel the vibrations of a suppressed snicker, and her expression softens.

"I think," she begins, her voice low at the secret meant just for them, "he will look exactly like you." 

The laughter held between Sougo's ribs lightens into something gentle, and together, they ponder of the mental image of their hypothetical son. Kagura can almost picture him in her mind — the same hair, the same smile, the same eyes—

"Blue," Sougo says, and Kagura looks up in surprise. "His eyes," he clarifies. "They won't be mine. They'll be blue."

He looks down to meet her gaze. "Just like his mother's."

It's not fair, Kagura thinks, that even after years of knowing him inside and out, her breath will always hitch at the honesty of the look he saves just for her.

She's not usually the first to initiate a kiss, but she does now, pulling him closer by the jacket so that her lips slant perfectly over his. Sougo follows her lead, chasing the path of her mouth when she pulls away just enough. "We will see, yes?" she breathes, the world just a little bit brighter, just a little bit warmer.

Her husband traces the line of her jaw, tipping up her chin to kiss her again. "I guess we will."

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in the climax of the worst Australian heatwave I've ever experienced in the eighteen years I've lived here, so you have the weather to thank for my word vomit. I took inspiration from how I was practically melting into my laundry room floor as I was writing, so this fic basically came about because I like projecting my annoyance of things onto you guys :') 
> 
> Thanks for reading, though. Hope you liked it <3


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